Page 57 of The Woman Left Behind

Seeing it now as the room his mom designed so her boys could truck in from whatever they were doing outside, lay about, be comfortable, spill drinks and track mud and drop potato chip crumbles.

It wasn’t ugly, if it was dated.

What it was, was sturdy, warm and welcoming.

He looked again to Lillian to see Smokey had claimed her.

But more, she’d claimed Smokey.

Another surprise.

People tended to be skittish around pit bulls, even if that breed was loyal and affectionate.

But not Lillian.

Before Harry got him, Smokey had been starved nearly to death, so he didn’t trust easily.

But there he was, leaning against Lillian’s leg while she scratched behind his ears.

Fuck. This woman.

He had to clear his throat before he spoke.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She nodded.

He moved her way, grabbed her hand and walked her to the kitchen.

He watched for her reaction to that room as well and saw what he expected to see this time. She masked her expression to hide she was unimpressed.

“I lived here growing up,” he told her. “Bought it off Dad when he wanted to downsize, before he retired and moved to Arizona. Mom and Dad got this place as a fixer-upper. They did the important stuff first, putting on a new roof, installing a new furnace and water heater, kitting out the bathrooms, the living room, their boys’ rooms. She got sick before they tackled the kitchen.”

“Ah,” she replied.

“Winnie wasn’t a cook,” he stated, and her gaze darted to his, shock that he put Winnie out there easily read in it. “And honestly, I didn’t give much of a fuck about anything after I lost her.”

“Harry,” she whispered.

He set the bottle aside and gathered her into his arms.

“I know I said we’d keep it light,” he began. “But I saw you staring at her picture in my office.”

She immediately appeared uncomfortable.

“She lived,” he said quietly, and her gaze grew intent on his. “I loved her. I married her. I was destroyed when I lost her. But that was years ago and something you need to know. I’m stubborn.”

Her eyes got big at this admission, and she mumbled, “Um…okay.”

“Being stubborn,” he went on, “I held on to her loss longer than I should.” He gave her a squeeze and warned, “I’m not over her, Lillian. I’ll never be over her. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, but that isn’t what fucks me about her breaking her neck when she was twenty-eight. What fucks me about it is she was hilarious. She was up for anything. She wanted to eat pizza in Italy and sushi in Japan and curry in India, and she never went to any of those places. It fucks me not only that we had a beautiful life together we didn’t get to live, but she had a beautiful life she didn’t get to live. That’s what fucks me.”

“I can imagine,” Lillian whispered, still studying him intensely.

“She’ll always be in my heart. But, not so recently, a friend told me Winnie would be pissed as shit I stopped living when she did. He was right. It took me until meeting you to understand how right he was.”

Her body melted into his as her gaze on him warmed so much, the green in her eyes seemed to turn to liquid jade.

“But I need to be able to talk about her,” Harry gently continued. “I don’t want her to be the elephant in the room. I want her to be what she was. A woman I loved who I lost, and I hated that, but I’m still here.”

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